


The Sky is Grieving

by stellasilvae



Series: Biology, Bonds, and Babies [3]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 16:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2395109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellasilvae/pseuds/stellasilvae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loss can be heartbreaking. Please regard the tags and beware of the associated triggers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sky is Grieving

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've had a rough couple of days. Not this kind of rough, but I had to write it out, and this helped. Please, if miscarriage and mild suicide ideation are triggers for you, give this one a pass. There will be at least one or two between the previously posted story and this one and I have a few in mind after it. There will be some fluff, I promise! Hopefully, some fluff (and porn) before the weekend ends if my muse cooperates so hang in there.   
> Still unbetaed. 
> 
> Happy reading?

His whole body felt numb; the cool rain soaking him to the skin was less than an afterthought. Instead, he stared across his husband's lands, not quite registering the rich green hills or well-tilled fields. Some distant part of him was aware of the looks soldiers patrolling the wall-walk were giving him. His mate was very prudent about the defense of their home. Unfortunately, Duke Morgan's prudence could not keep his Omega's body from rejecting their unborn child.

The thought ripped through him, akin to what Spencer imagined a dagger might feel like, and then it was gone, replaced by the cold dullness. Like this, it was so easy to let it all fade away. The grief, pain and failure retreated, and even the feeling in his limbs seemed to deaden. Spencer leaned over the parapet, body swaying.

It was a long way down. A bit of loose stone, displaced by his weight tumbled. The distant clack of rock on rock made Spencer think that if a human fell, it would likely be enough. It would be enough to keep this pain at bay, wouldn't it? Would anyone care that the failure of an omega fell? Would Derek cry over his broken body? Would he wrap him in his cloak as he did their tiny, bloody son?

His vision blurred. The gray of the stones seemed to rush closer for one breathless instant, before warm hands gripped his arms and hauled him against a hard heat. His arms were released before two bands of flesh encircled him and held him captive. Uncomprehending, Spencer blinked and held himself very still as the predator scented him, running nose and lips over Spencer's neck.

"Would you have me lose you, too? God, Spencer." His mate's voice echoed as if from a great distance, and Spencer didn't reply. He didn't have any words, wasn't sure he could reach through the fog if he did. Wasn't sure he wanted to.

 

Derek's first born was laid to rest on a grey morning. His mother stood at his side, her hand lightly resting on his forearm. Her comfort was wordless but vital. His chest hurt, a steady ache of something missing, and his mate was not present. Spencer had just stared blankly at him when Derek asked him to come say farewell to their child, laid to rest in the family crypt below the chapel. Instead, Derek had only the support of his mother.

It hurt. No worse than the loss of their child certainly, but it hurt not to have his mate at his side. Perhaps he blamed Derek.

Derek blamed himself.

He never should have knotted the boy. So young. Tall, yes, but thin and so fragile in Derek's arms. Perhaps his body hadn't been ready to bear, in spite of the start of the heats, and he just couldn't take it. The healer had pulled Derek aside and cautioned him from trying again too soon. Spencer would be weak for several days, his body sore and aching, but they were fortunate that the bleeding had stopped. Fortunate that it had happened only four months along. Fortunate that Spencer had not died with the baby. Meager mercies, but Derek would take what he could get and prevent this from happening again.

Derek would never forget waking up to Spencer's scream or the small pool of blood beneath the omega's body. He had never felt so helpless as he shouted for a servant to bring the healer and watched the puddle grow. Spencer had groaned and cried out, clutching Derek's arm, and Derek could do nothing. He had even been ordered out of the room when the healer had arrived. Servants had been allowed to come and go as the healer needed, eventually replacing the soiled bedding, until finally Derek had been allowed in. His mate-his mate, already pale, appeared unnaturally white. The fire had been built up, and he had been covered in a mountain of blankets. And in his arms, a small bundle, crimson starting to soak through the thin blanket. Spencer gazed into the little face, and Derek's heart had leapt. Perhaps-

The healer had pulled him aside before the thought could form, and silently, Derek began to cry. He turned to Spencer who had still been staring at the child. There were no tears, and his face had been inscrutable. Cautiously, Derek had approached him as if his mate were a wild animal, but Spencer hadn't noticed. He had waited but after several minutes of no change and no movement, Derek had felt that he should do something. He had taken his cloak from the wardrobe and laid it out on the bed. Spencer still did not move when Derek had taken their son - it had been a son - and wrapped the tiny body in the wool, ready to be prepared for his final home.

Spencer had curled into a ball and hadn't cried or even moved the majority of that day. Derek had been in and out of their rooms, but the lump in the blankets never acknowledged him. His mother had come to sit with him, appearing in the hall at supper with a worried frown. He had not spoken to her. When Derek had gone back up, the supper tray was untouched as the servants had said the lunch and breakfast trays had been. Derek left him alone, praying that sleep and a little time would help his mate.

It hadn't.

Leaving the crypt, Derek turned into his mother's embrace. "Ma, I don't know what to do."

"Derek, darling," he could hear the trace of tears in her voice. "There isn't much to do. He's going to need time and space to grieve. He's going to need to know that you don't blame him."

Derek jerked back. "Blame him? Ma, he doesn't think I blame him. It's my fault. He's practically a child, and I-" He couldn't talk about his marriage bed, especially with his mother.

"You did what nature required when an Alpha is shut up with an Omega in heat. Perhaps you would have been able to leave before touching him, but after bonding, you could no more stop your knot than ask the sun to stop shining. And sometimes, as tragic as this is, it happens. He needs to know that you don't blame him for it happening. I know what I am talking about," she told him, and Derek was reminded of his two stillborn sisters. His older sister, an Omega, had married well and was happy, but between him and her there were three years of heartbreak for his mother.

"Duke Morgan!" The runner shouted, coming to an abrupt halt in front of them.

Derek raised an eyebrow. He didn't mind exuberance, but most of his staff were a little intimidated by him. "Yes?"

"Lord Spencer. He's on the wall-walk. They sent me to tell you, sir," the boy reported.

"I'm going to him. Fetch his cloak and bring it to me there," he ordered. Another day, Derek might have wondered about his staff's obsession with Spencer, but he couldn't dismiss the warning itself, not that day. Derek went to the wall, as fast as he could manage without all-out running. It wouldn't do to startle the staff or his mate.

At the top of the stairs, Derek stilled. Spencer was still in his white nightshirt, gone sheer in the rain. The thin, blue breeches that he sometimes wore to bed when his thin frame was chilled had gone navy and were plastered to his skin. The omega looked out, his face expressionless and still, although his lips were beginning to turn blue from the cold a fall rain brings. Derek felt ill.

"Spencer." His mate didn't answer, didn't appear to register his voice at all. Derek stepped forward, but froze with terror when the boy leaned over the wall. The slight body listed towards the drop, and Derek's heart lurched to his throat. "Spencer!" He raced forward and dragged his mate against his chest, well and safely away from the deadly drop. "Would you have me lose you, too? God, Spencer." He shivered against him, and Derek looked around until he caught sight of the boy running up the stairs with Spencer's cloak aloft. Derek took it and bundled it around its owner.

"How long has he been out here?" The men shifted and refused to meet his eyes. "How long?" Derek asked dangerously.

"Nearin' on an hour, all told, your grace," one of them admitted uncomfortably. "We told him he should go inside before he drowns."

"Respectfully, like," another piped up.

"But he ignored us, your grace," the first explained.

"Thank you. Be about your business," Derek dismissed them, tilting up the chin that had ducked low. Faint recognition to be sure, but it reassured Derek nevertheless. "Let's get you inside and warm." He tried to shuffle Spencer forward, but the boy's legs collapsed. Derek supported his weight with his right arm before carefully lifting him so that his knees were hooked over his left. Not very dignified to be sure in front of the yard, but it was the best way to prevent pressure on his delicate abdomen and backside.

The servants ambushed them as soon as they were inside, and he ordered a warm, not hot, bath. It wouldn't do to scald the icy skin or regions made delicate from miscarriage. Derek refused any help with Spencer in spite of allowing his staff to fetch this or that. Spencer was his. His, and he had nearly died. Like their child.

Derek wasn't ready for that thought. He stripped the boy down, eager to get the wet clothes off, and gently placed him in the tub that the servants had moved before their fire. It would remain warmer longer there and allow Derek to feed his mate from their table where a thin broth waited. Derek drew off his tunic and rolled up the sleeves of his undershirt, took off his boots and knelt beside the bathing tub. Spencer did not look at him or speak, although he obediently followed Derek's commands. Lean forward, lean back. Lift your arm for me, pretty boy. His skin was soon regaining the undertone of pink and lost the gray pallor. Still, Derek left him in the warm water to bring over the broth. It was only his soft orders that had Spencer eating, being told each time to open his mouth. Derek wasn't sure he was ever going to be able to forgive himself for what he allowed to happen to his omega.

When he was finished, Derek lifted him out and set him on a chair. He gingerly dried the boy off and pulled one of his own clean nightshirts over his form, hoping his scent would soothe his mate on some instinctive level. He carried him to the bed and tucked him in, even though it was just past mid-day. Derek was unsure what else to do or what to say.

"Please, forgive me." Derek clenched his fists in the bedding. "Please, Spencer, forgive me. I know this is my fault; you are too young, and I knew better. Yell at me, Spencer, hit me, anything, but look at me, please."

Brown eyes blinked and focused on him. "Why would I yell at you? It was me. My body. I-" He stopped, staring down, and it hit Derek like a canon ball. his mother was right. She was always right.

Derek held Spencer close to him. "I don't blame you, pretty boy. I never would. It wasn't your fault. It could never be. Never. It was beyond your control." Mine, too, he realized. "It's not your fault."

The sobs started quietly, and Derek only noticed the shaking. He stroked the boy's back and rested his cheek against the head cradled against his shoulder. The shaking intensified, and Spencer's breathing became ragged gasps. A wet spot formed on his shirt, but Derek didn't care. He held his mate through the day and the night, a quiet comfort, well past when Spencer cried himself to sleep.


End file.
